


Conflict Resolution 101

by Glory1863



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Fair fighting, M/M, Relationship Issues, discussion of consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 17:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glory1863/pseuds/Glory1863
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although Malcolm is chief of security, there are still a few things he needs to learn about fighting. Trip is just the one to teach him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conflict Resolution 101

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Travis's Birthday Party](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/28685) by Pennyforum. 



> Originally posted at the Warp 5 Complex on 04/22/2007. Many thanks to Pennyforum for allowing me to write a sequel to her story, especially since she did one herself.

“Oh, Gawd!” Trip Tucker moaned as he slowly came awake.  He knew he was in trouble.  He’d partied hardy at Travis Mayweather’s birthday bash the night before, and now he was paying for it.  His stomach was so queasy that he was sure he was going to throw up.  His head felt like it was ready to explode and so did his bladder.  His eyes fluttered open and were met with blinding light.  “Malcolm Reed, didn’t I tell you not to play with your phase pistol in the house?  Take it outside!” he whined.  Obviously, Trip was neither fully awake nor fully sober yet.

He lay quietly for a few more minutes in the vain hope that his body would settle down.  When that didn’t happen, his bladder being particularly noncompliant, he reluctantly opened his eyes again and realized that the only light in the room came from his clock which read 0600.  “Damn!” he muttered.  He and Malcolm didn’t have to be on duty until 1330.  He struggled to get out of bed, his limbs being inexplicably tangled in the bed linens.  He moved slowly across his quarters toward the bathroom, mostly by feel as he didn’t want to turn on the lights and wake Malcolm.  In the process though, he tripped over something and another curse escaped his lips, somewhat louder this time.  When he finally finished in the bathroom - he counted himself lucky that when he did throw up he didn’t pass out and drown in the toilet - he quietly crept back to bed and managed to avoid whatever he had tripped over before.  He was rearranging the bed linens and making ready to snuggle up against Malcolm when he made the shocking discovery that Malcolm wasn’t there.  In fact, Malcolm’s side of the bed was cold.  He hadn’t been there for quite awhile.  “Oh, hell!”  Trip knew he was **really** in trouble now.

He gave up on getting any more sleep and turned up the lights.  It didn’t appear that Malcolm had left him a message explaining where he’s gone of to, but then, Trip hadn’t really expected one.  He had a pretty good idea where his lover was.  Whenever Trip said or did anything that really pissed Malcolm off, Malcolm moved back to his own quarters, avoided Trip as much as he could (and still perform his duties) and pretty much gave him the silent treatment which he knew Trip found particularly hurtful.  “Great!  All I have to do is figure out how I screwed up **now**.  I wonder how long it’ll be before he lets me apologize **this** time?” Trip said to the empty room.

Trip dearly loved Malcolm, but he had to admit that his partner’s way of dealing with their misunderstandings was starting to really get on his nerves.  _Why can’t he just tell me what’s bothering him?  Sure, I can usually figure it out, but not always.  We’re adults.  Why can’t we sit down and discuss things rationally without all the drama first?"_

While he was being honest with himself, Trip also had to admit that while he was afraid Malcolm might decide not to come back, he was even more afraid that if this “break up to make up” cycle didn’t stop, then eventually **he** wouldn’t want to take Malcolm back.  The thought really saddened him.  Malcolm was gorgeous, smart, funny, caring and loving.  He was strong and yet vulnerable, a fascinating dichotomy.  What more could one ask for?  Oh yeah!  One other thing:  Malcolm was erotic.  Oh, was he ever!  Amongst other things, Malcolm could kiss like nobody else!

Kiss!  A memory stirred.  Trip remembered kissing Malcolm at the party.  They’d fed one another luscious, gooey pastries.  Chef had really outdone himself.  Trip was pretty sure he hadn’t smashed one into Malcolm’s face, but he had licked some errant streaks of chocolate off his lips and from about his mouth which somehow had led to a long, deep, passionate kiss.  Would that have upset Malcolm enough to cause him to leave without a word in the dark of night?  They’d been teased a bit, sure, but nothing cruel.  They’d been off duty and among friends and they hadn’t been hiding their relationship for a long time.  No, there had to be something else, and yet he couldn’t get “kiss” out of his mind.

Trip had eventually managed to shave, shower, get dressed and haul himself down to the mess hall for some much needed strong black coffee.  Malcolm was nowhere to be seen.  Trip filled the biggest mug he could find and took it to a table in a back corner as far from the hubbub by the entrance as he could get.  It wasn’t far enough to avoid detection by Hoshi Sato, though.

“Hi, Trip.  How’s the party animal this morning?” Hoshi asked brightly.

“Give me a break, will you, Hoshi?  You’re **way** too perky for this hour of the morning,” Trip protested.

“Poor baby!” Hoshi smirked.  “How’s Malcolm?” she asked with genuine concern.

“Don’t know.  Haven’t seen him yet.”  Trip tried to sound as if he hadn’t a care in the world, but he couldn’t fool Hoshi’s sensitive ears.

“I was afraid of that.  He’s walked out on you again, hasn’t he?” Hoshi asked gently.  There was no trace of a smirk now.

There was no sense even trying to lie.  “Yeah, he has.  Look, Hoshi, I’m a little fuzzy about what went on last night.  Would you give me a hand sorting it out?  I need to know what I did so I can go apologize - if he’ll let me.”

“Sure, Trip.  What do you remember?”

“Well, I remember feeding him something chocolate.  I remember kissing him.  I guess we kind of put on a show, but I didn’t think it would make Malcolm **that** mad.”  Trip caught the look on Hoshi’s face.  “What?”

“Do you remember anything else?”

“I remember thinking what a great kisser Malcolm is.  You know, I’ve been around the block a time or two so I’ve got a basis for comparison, and Malcolm is the best.”  If Trip had been a cartoon character, then a light bulb would have gone on above his head.  “Oh, no!  Tell me I didn’t!  Lie if you have to, Hoshi, but please tell me I didn’t!”

“Tell you you didn’t what, Trip?” Hoshi asked with a slight smile.

“Offer you all a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be kissed by Malcolm.”  From the look on Hoshi’s face, Trip knew that was exactly what he’d done.  “Gawd, how could I be so stupid!”  Trip seriously considered knocking his head against the table a couple times.  “So did anybody take me up on it?”

“Liz.”

“Oh, great!  Ethan’s going to be pissed.”

“I believe that’s why he broke out the Andorian ale.  He knows you have a fondness for it and that it packs quite a wallop.  I’d say he’s gotten his revenge based on that alone.”

“Who else?”

“Phlox.”

“Oh, hell!  The doc’s a good guy and all, but that tongue!  Anybody else?”

“Just Travis.”

Trip grimaced.  “Oh, Hoshi, I’m sorry!”  Against his better judgment, though, he just couldn’t refrain from asking, “What about you?”

“No way!  As unofficial hostess, I was still nursing my first drink, so I guess the offer just didn‘t have the appeal it might otherwise have had.  Besides, I kept thinking of Yoko Ono.”

“Yoko Ono?  Why?”  Trip was truly mystified.

“Everybody blamed her for breaking up the Beatles.  I didn’t want to go through life with everyone pointing at me and whispering behind my back, ‘That’s Hoshi Sato.  She broke up the Disaster Twins.’”

“Very funny, Hoshi!  Man, I’m surprised Malcolm hasn’t killed me already!”

“Well, Trip, as you pointed out, it’s early yet.” Hoshi was laughing now.

“Aw, come on, Hoshi, this is serious!  How am I going to convince him I’m sorry so he’ll take me back?  I don’t want to lose him!  I love him!”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something, Trip.”  Trip looked so miserable that Hoshi decided to take pity on him.  “Just never forget where he’s coming from.  Oh, and Trip, you might want to think about the times he’s left you and if there’s any pattern to them.”

Now that he knew what he’d done, Trip tried day after day to get Malcolm to see him privately so he could apologize, but to no avail.  Malcolm was coldly correct while on duty, but off duty, he’d gone so far as to send Trip a message reminding him that Ensigns Smith and Morton were the senior security officers for Beta and Gamma shifts respectively and that according to protocol, they were to be contacted for any security needs during those time periods.  If anything came up that required his personal attention, they would notify him.  Otherwise, he wished to be left alone.

On the seventh day after Travis’s birthday party, Trip was headed down the corridor toward the turbolift when he saw Malcolm come out of his quarters.  “Mal,” he called.  Malcolm moved on as if he’d heard nothing.

_OK,_ Trip thought, _so maybe Malcolm didn’t hear me or didn’t want to be called by his nickname._ “Malcolm,” he called a bit louder, but again got no response.

Malcolm was almost to the turbolift when two other crewmen came into the corridor.  Trip hated what he was about to do, but Malcolm had given him no choice.  “Lieutenant Reed, I’d like a word with you, please.” 

Malcolm slowed, and Trip knew that Malcolm's feelings were battling his training.  His training won - he couldn’t be seen to be disrespectful toward a senior officer - just as Trip had expected.  Malcolm slowly turned to face him.  He crossed his arms over his chest in a classic defensive pose.  “Is there something I can do for you, Commander?”  The words were cold, clipped and correct.

Trip waited to speak until he was directly in front of Malcolm.  Nobody else needed to hear this.  “Malcolm, we need to talk.  Observation lounge at 1730.  Be there.”

“Is that an order, sir?”  Despite his frosty tone, Malcolm’s eyes were blazing.

“If that’s what it takes, Lieutenant, then yes, that’s an order, and unless we’re being chased by some giant squid-like creature that thinks we’re supper or some such thing, I don’t want to hear any excuses about why you aren’t there.  Am I clear?”

“As crystal, sir.  Is there anything else, sir?”  Malcolm’s voice was a good 10 degrees colder.

Trip sighed.  “No, Malcolm, that’s all.”  Malcolm nodded curtly and wordlessly performed a perfect about-face and entered the turbolift just as the door was closing.

At 1735, a very apprehensive Trip entered the observation lounge and was somewhat relieved to see Malcolm staring out the port, but his estranged lover failed to acknowledge his presence in any way.  “Malcolm, this has got to stop!”

Malcolm turned to face Trip and was clearly furious.  “You pull rank on me just so you can get me here and dump me, Commander?”

“I pulled rank on you because it was the only way I could get you here so I could apologize to you, not dump you.  Look, I’m sorry I was a galaxy-class jerk the other night.  I love you, and the last thing I want to do is break up with you, but if we don’t stop this ‘break up to make up’ cycle, then that’s what’s going to happen.  It’s corrosive, like dripping acid on hull plating.  Eventually, you get a breach.  We keep doing this and sooner or later one of us isn’t going to take the other back.  Is that what you want?”

“You obviously didn’t care what I wanted at Travis’s birthday party, yet I’m to believe you care what I want now?  You acted like a galaxy-class bastard and now you expect me to smile politely and thank you for it?”

“No, Malcolm.  You’re right.  I was a jerk.  You’ve got a right to be mad.”

“Well, thank you ever so much, Commander.  How magnanimous of you!  And just what has become of the apology you ostensibly lured me here to receive?  I still haven’t heard one.”

 “Would you just let me explain, please?  I had a really rough afternoon in Engineering.  One of the injectors went bad, the intermix ratio was all over the place, and it took well into Beta shift to fix it.  I was lucky to make the party.  I didn’t make it to supper so that little pastry thing you fed me was the first thing I’d had to eat since lunch.  I’d had a couple three beers by then, so I guess I was a little ’overserved.’  I was happy to be with you and happy not to hide that we’re together.  When I kissed you - well, Malcolm, you kiss like nobody else!  I wanted everybody to know the good thing I have in you.  One chance only, though.  I didn’t want anybody getting any ideas.”

“Do you have even the vaguest idea about how imbecilic that sounds?”  Malcolm was clearly not impressed.

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Trip mumbled.  “But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t true.  About you being a good thing and a great kisser, I mean.  Besides, you could have just said ‘no’.”

“I was under the impression I had, several times in fact.  I warned you that you were about to say something you’d regret.  I told you I didn’t want that kind of recognition.  I told you I wasn’t interested in kissing anyone but you.  I told you that I felt I was being coerced.  Bloody hell!  I did everything but draw pictures.  What part of ‘no’ didn’t you understand?”

“A lot of times you say ‘no’, but eventually it turns into ‘yes.’  I remember when no, you didn’t like parties, and no, you didn’t want anybody to know about us, but now you do.”  For once, Trip didn’t miss the warning look Malcolm gave him.  “Well, at least until the other night,” he admitted sheepishly. 

Trip didn’t stay on the defensive for long, though.  “How was I to know you meant it this time?  Look, Malcolm, you got a lot of other erotic talents.  What if I’d picked one of them?  Would you have just gone along with it then, too?”

“Certainly not!”  Malcolm didn’t blush at this.  Instead, he was white with anger.  “I would have walked out on you then and there.  I might even have struck a superior officer.  What’s happened to your apology, Commander?  Why is this suddenly all **my** fault?”

“It’s **not** your fault, Malcolm.  I’ll say it again.  I was a major jerk.  I shouldn’t have done it.  I obviously wasn’t thinking straight.  I’m sorry, I really am.  But I still don’t understand why you weren’t more forceful in saying "no" when what you **were** saying wasn’t making an impression on me.   I mean, if you knew you were going to walk out on me anyway over it . . .”  Trip threw his hands up in frustration.  “Would you please help me understand what you were thinking there?”

Malcolm closed his eyes for a moment.  He needed to be calm enough to make a decision, a very important decision, and then needed to gather together all his courage to actually do whatever he decided.

“Trip, I’ve allowed you to matter to me, to become very important to me, actually.  That’s not something I find easy to do.  It wasn’t anything that I’d planned to do, in fact, but it’s happened.  Now that it has, I don’t want to lose you.  I’m afraid that if I refuse you too often, you’ll discard me.”

“But Malcolm, you’re the one who always walks away.”  The pain in Malcolm’s voice registered with Trip, but the incongruity between his words and his actions were as mystifying to him as Trip's had been to Malcolm.

“Not always,” Malcolm cut in.  “When the Xindi attack killed your sister, you pushed me away.  You did every hurtful thing you could think of to rid yourself of me.”

"I know I did, Malcolm.  We’ve talked about this.  You know why I did it.  You know I’m sorry.  You know I’ll never do that to you again.  It was the worst time of my life!”

“Look, instead of isolating yourself when I piss you off, you need to talk to me about it.  Sure, take a little while to calm down and get your thoughts together, but talk to me.  When you sit and stew in your own juice, you always make it worse than it is.  You go from thinking I’m a jerk - which I usually am, I admit it - to thinking I did it on purpose to hurt you, to thinking that means I want to dump you.  Hell, I’m usually too busy just trying to figure out what I did wrong and how I’m going to make it right to think about dumping you.”  Trip tried a lopsided grin.  It didn’t work.

“Oh, so now you’re the voice of reason, Mr. Mouth Goes to Warp While Brain is Still on Impulse?”

“I’ve been trying, OK?  Have you noticed lately that when things start getting a little heated between us professionally, I kind of take a timeout and get back to you later?  I know if I let it get out of hand, then I’m going to pay when I get home, and I don’t want that.”

“Actually, I thought you were giving me the brush off, but now that you mention it, you do seem to have been getting back to me in a more or less timely fashion and been much more reasonable.  Our work environment has improved.  I beg your pardon, Commander.”

Trip silently appraised Malcolm for a long moment.  Trip was clearly distressed and seemed to be weighing something in his mind, unsure if what he was about to do next was a good idea.  “Malcolm, about what you said earlier about not wanting to say ‘no’ to me too often - I need to ask you somthing and I’d really appreciate a straight answer.”

“Do you think I’d lie to you?” Malcolm asked testily, his mercurial temperament having changed once again.

“You haven’t heard the question yet, but lie to me - no.  Sugarcoat it a bit - maybe.  So please don’t sugarcoat it, OK?”

“In case you haven’t noticed - and obviously you haven’t - at the moment, I’m not inclined to sugarcoat anything when it comes to you.”

“OK, then.”  Trip was clearly miserable.  He keep his eyes glued to the floor.  “Malcolm, when we’ve been in bed, have I ever asked you to do something . . .”  The question just sort of died on Trip’s lips.  After a slight pause, he tried again.  “Have you ever said ‘yes’ when you didn’t want . . .”  Again the question died.  Trip took a deep breath.  He had to get this out.  He had to know just how despicable his behavior toward his lover had been, how far beyond the faux pas at Travis’s party he’d gone, if their current fight was really about something else, something deeper, something unforgivable.  He figured Malcolm probably knew what he was trying to get at and wasn’t going to lift a finger to help him.  Why the hell should he?  With a gulp Trip finally blurted it out, “When we’ve been making love, Malcolm, have I ever asked you to do something you really didn’t want to, but you did anyway just to placate me, and then felt used afterward?”  Trip knew he had to look at Malcolm no matter how awful the answer.  When he raised his head, there were tears in his eyes.

“Good lord, no!  Trip, our lovemaking has never made me feel anything other than cherished.  That’s why I keep coming back to you, I suppose, and why I don’t want to lose you.”  Malcolm’s eyes were wide and shone with a few unshed tears of their own.  He realized Trip was finally “getting it”, and the anger that he had held on to and nursed for the past week evaporated.

“Trip, I love you.  I have never felt this way about anyone before and actually had the feeling returned, but you frighten me sometimes.  Being with you is like being with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  I never know which one I’ll get - the man who loves and values me or the man who leads me down the garden path into embarrassment and trouble.  Trip, you have to understand.  When you pull stunts like you did on Risa or at Travis’s birthday party, you put my career at risk, and my career is all I have.”

“Darlin’, I think you’re selling yourself a bit short there, but I hear you.  When Hoshi was helping me remember what went on at Travis’s party - the embarrassment I caused you - and I asked her how I could make it right with you, she reminded me never to forget where you’re coming from.  You gave up everything to join Starfleet, and you’ve worked your tail off to get where you are.  You don’t need me acting like a jackass and messing it all up for you.  I love you, Malcolm, and I promise to do better by you if you’ll give me the chance."

Malcolm favored Trip with the little half-smile that made Trip melt.  “I suspect there have been times when you weren’t sure whether you were getting Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde either.  I seem to recall going off in - what’s your favorite word for it? - a snit a few times when you’d done nothing more than remind me of someone else, somewhere else, sometime else.  You had no way of knowing beforehand, no way to prevent doing so, because I’d never warned you.  I’m sorry, Trip.”

“Upon careful consideration, perhaps this conflict resolution plan of yours isn’t such a bad idea after all.  Let me see, the rules are,” Malcolm counted them off on his fingers as he stated them, “first, it’s acceptable to get mad.  Second, neutral corners for a short, repeat **short** , time period to get one’s ducks in a row.  Third, serious discussion of the problem at hand, and fourth, stay on task with no extraneous issues.”

“That’s pretty much it.  Can we do that, please?”

“Yes.”

“No more walking out?  No more silent treatment?”

“No.” 

 “There’s one more thing you need to know.”  Malcolm would have thought that Trip would have been pleased by his acceptance of the “fair fighting” pact, but he could tell that Trip was uncomfortable again.  He wondered what was coming next.

“Just so you know, I’m not expecting you to be the one that does all the changing.  You’ve trusted me with some deep, dark, Reed family secrets, and now I’m going to tell you one of the Tuckers’.”

“You’re under no obligation, Trip.” 

“You haven’t actually said you’re taking me back yet.  You might want to hear this before you decide.”

“All right.  Fire when ready, Mr. Tucker.”

“When I was trying to figure out how to get you back, Hoshi also told me I needed to see if there was a pattern to the times when you walked out on me.  She was right.  It wasn’t just that I’d done or said something stupid.  It was also that I’d had too much to drink before I did it or said it.  Truth be told, the Tucker men have a history of drinking problems.  Grandma Tucker actually threw Grandpa out for awhile until he did something about it.  When I was little, Mama threatened to pack us kids up and move in with Grandma if Daddy didn’t do something about it.  I figured I’d beat the curse.  I figured I didn‘t have a problem with alcohol.  I didn’t drink in the morning.  I didn’t drink at work.  I didn’t miss work on account of being drunk.  I didn’t go driving or flying if I’d been drinking.  I didn’t miss it when there wasn’t any around.” 

“Well, Daddy set me straight pretty damn fast.  He’s not one for beating around the bush.  He asked me, ‘Son, is your drinking hurting Malcolm?  And do you still love him?  Because if the answers are both yes, then all those other things don’t matter a bit.  If your drinking is hurting Malcolm and you love him, then you’ve got a drinking problem and the sooner you realize it and do something about it, the better.’”

“Malcolm, I’m telling you I got a drinking problem just like my Daddy and Grandpa.  I’m seeing Phlox, and I’ve let Hoshi know I’d appreciate having coffee or pop around at any of the ship’s celebrations.  But this never goes away.  Grandpa and Daddy have both fallen off the wagon a time or two, and I figure I’m no better than them.  If you don’t want the grief, I’ll understand.”

“Trip, let’s just take it a day at a time, right?  I’ll try to remember to fight fair the next time I feel like having a snit and you’ll try to keep from sniffing the cork.  Agreed?”

“Deal, Malcolm.  You really are the best!  So does that mean you’re coming home with me?”

“That all depends, Mr. Tucker.” 

“On what, Malcolm?”  Trip asked warily.  He didn’t notice the amusement in Malcolm’s eyes.

“I believe you said the ‘break up to make up’ cycle had to end.  Must we really give up on the ‘make up’ part?”

“Hell no!  We just don’t need all the angst first!”  Trip laughed.

Later that evening as Trip and Malcolm cuddled in bed, Trip invited Malcolm to Movie Night.  “I thought I’d show a James Bond movie for Movie Night.  You want to go, darlin’?”

“Sounds lovely.  Which one did you choose?”

Trip was about to answer but suddenly thought better of it.  Damn, this could get him in trouble and he’d only just gotten Malcolm back.

“Trip, love, didn’t you hear me?  Which one did you pick?”

Trip tightened his embrace of Malcolm.  “You know the Bond movies all have popular songs associated with them don’t you?”

“I’m aware of that, yes, but I really don’t pay close attention.  Which movie did you pick, Trip?” 

“Now don’t you go getting upset.  I swear I chose it for the song.  I’m not making any comments about what you used to do for Starfleet before you joined the _Enterprise_.”  Anyone who was unaware of the week of hell Trip had just gone through would have found his distress almost comical.

“What’s the name of the movie, Trip?”  Malcolm sounded like he was running out of patience.

“ _The Spy Who Loved Me.”_ Trip cringed.  He had visions of Malcolm locking him out of his own quarters after calling him all sorts of names, none of them nice, and most of which only Hoshi would understand.

“Trip!”  Here it comes, Trip thought, but instead Malcolm burst into laughter.  “Would I know this song?”

Trip breathed a sigh of relief.  “Funny you should ask.  I’ve got it right here.”  Trip eased out of his embrace with Malcolm and reached over to hit “play” on the audio device on the nightstand.  The voice of Carly Simon filled the room:

_Nobody does it better_

_Makes me feel sad for the rest_

_Nobody does it half as good as you_

_Baby, you’re the best_

Now, Malcolm, who was just as happy that Trip had taken him back and had never wanted to give up on the “make up” part of the cycle in the first place, set about doing his utmost to prove Ms. Simon right.


End file.
